


Lasciviousness and Lace

by playout, PrinnPrick



Series: Happy Accidents [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossdressing, Explicit Sexual Content, HP: EWE, Humor, M/M, POV Alternating, Shameless Smut, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 01:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5315351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playout/pseuds/playout, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinnPrick/pseuds/PrinnPrick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's time for Harry to pay the piper. Fortunately, he looks rather good in green.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lasciviousness and Lace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Failureland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Failureland/gifts).



> This is the sequel to A Lovely Shade of Green and a gift for Failureland for being such a wonderful reader and commenter. 
> 
> It's smuterrific!

Draco checked his hair for the fifth time in as many minutes. Not only was each and every strand in its place (and spelled to stay that way), but they were all platinum blond.

It was a tremendous relief.

There had been more than a few anxious hours, particularly during the first day, when he had feared he would be stuck with emerald green for the rest of his life.

...Not that he couldn't have made the colour work for him. But he was grateful to look the part of a proper Malfoy once again.

He'd spent the better portion of the afternoon making preparations for Potter's imminent arrival. The house-elves were putting the finishing touches on a lavish four-course meal, Gieves was due at 6:30 sharp for the fitting, and the borrowed gown (Pansy's, from one of Blaise's ridiculous themed parties) was prominently displayed on a transfigured dress form by the hearth--like an out-of-season Christmas tree. He could hardly believe that what he'd first taken for a cruel prank--which had caused him to miss three entire days of work and resulted in no small measure of emotional distress--had concluded with his new partner, Harry-bloody- _Potter_ (rival, Saviour, wank-fantasy extraordinaire), agreeing to come to the Manor to be fitted for a ball gown. And what was, by all appearances, a date.

It was more than a little surreal.

******

Harry arrived at the grand entrance of Malfoy Manor after a long ten minute walk from the gates (which had to be opened by a house-elf). He knocked once, shifting from foot to foot before the dark, looming door. He was in his usual torn jeans, faded trainers, a simple half-zip green shirt, and a rough leather jacket, waiting impatiently (as he figured it would be an age before it was answered).

He cast a tempus charm to double-check the time. Just after six--he was only a little late. Not that he expected Malfoy to let it go.

******

A confident knock echoed through the foyer, halting Draco where he stood. Potter was late, but he was there.

Draco's pulse skittered a moment before he wrapped himself in calm. He took a nearly-silent, steadying breath as Mipsy opened the door for their guest. He couldn't help but chuckle at Potter's bedraggled appearance as the man cautiously made his way into the foyer and appraised his surroundings with a practiced sweep (like the good little Auror he was). It took him nearly four seconds to locate Draco on the landing--during which time Draco held his well-practiced pose with exquisite precision. When he did, Potter's luminous eyes lit up behind their frames and he flashed a brilliant, somewhat cocky smile.

Draco arched a brow in return. "You're late," he chided and began making his way down the stairs, trailing a hand lightly on the high-gloss wood of the banister.

******

Harry shrugged, obviously none-too-concerned for his lack of punctuality. His grin widened as Malf-- _Draco_ approached, as posh and elegant as ever. To hide the way his hands trembled with jittery nerves, he shoved them into his jacket pockets and took two steps further into the Manor.

"The place looks good," he commented vaguely. "As do you. Nice hair."

******

"No thanks to you," Draco drawled, closing the distance between them and resisting the urge to preen under Potter's halfhearted compliment.

When they stood a pace apart, he stopped to look Potter over, tutting as he did so. "I suppose this is what I get for inviting you over directly from work," he opined, neglecting to mention the man cut a mouthwatering figure in his leather jacket and snug-fitting denims. "Though would it kill you to wear something serviceable beneath your robes?"

******

"I like denims," Harry replied simply with another shrug of indifference. "Besides, it's all coming off later, so what does it matter what I'm wearing now? I might as well be naked, for all intents and purposes." It took a great deal of effort not to smirk as he said it.

He looked Draco up and down, not bothering to keep the leer to himself.

"You're alright…for an aristocrat. Not so much for an Auror. But then, I didn't want you as my partner for your sense of style."

******

Draco did a mental double take and then another. It was a Herculean feat to maintain his placid expression through Potter's deliberately provocative quips. How was he supposed to decide which tantalizing tidbit to comment on first?

He'd heard a rumor Potter had specifically requested they be assigned together after his third partner had quit under the strain of working alongside the Chosen One, but he'd chalked it up to office gossip mongering and dismissed the notion. Too hastily, apparently. Then there was Potter's snide commentary on Draco's outfit--a fine set of dove grey robes that complemented his features exquisitely, thank you. Coupled with that was the matter of Potter's clothing and his suggestion that it was little better than a formality for the evening. Unsurprisingly, that was where Draco's mind was sticking.

"I look better than fine and you know it," he retorted haughtily, thumbing the crisp edge of his lapel and tilting his head to its best angle, "but you are more than welcome to divest yourself of your pauper's garb before the tailor's arrival. I wouldn't object to being rid of the eyesore."

******

Harry chuckled as Malfoy (Draco) paused just a few seconds too long to come up with his next comeback. And when he did, it wasn't exactly a stunner. The man was shaken, and Harry felt surprisingly smug for the implicit victory therein.

"I know you live alone here now, but what about your elves?" he asked in response to the suggestion he undress early. "Wouldn't they be uncomfortable seeing me walk around in the all together?"

******

Draco's smirk widened to a predatory grin, sharp and hungry. "As a matter of fact, no," he answered, tugging playfully on Potter's zipper. "Why should they? Yours would hardly be the first nudity they've ever been exposed to.

"Besides," he added wryly, "it's all coming off later anyway, isn't it? Gieves will be here any minute. Unlike _some_ _people_ , he is punctual."

******

"Then we have a bit of time before he's due," Harry said casually (with his hands still in his pockets and his grin morphing into a sultry smirk). His eyes flashed up to Draco's in challenge. "Enough for you to undress me, if that's what you really want."

*****

Draco scoffed. As if there was any doubt.

Without further ado, he pulled Potter's zipper down as far as it would go, exposing a tempting vee of tanned skin from Potter's collarbone to the middle of his sternum. He bent forward to sample a taste, delighting in the musky, salty tang of fresh sweat. (One of the perks of the physically demanding job they shared.)

Potter inhaled sharply through his nose and Draco smirked against his skin. For a man so concerned with his propriety around house-elves, Potter didn't seem over-worried about how he'd appear sporting an erection for his fitting. _Draco_ certainly didn't mind.

******

Harry slid his hands from his pockets and hung them loosely by his sides. He tried his best to keep his stance and gaze relaxed as he watched what he could of Draco's ministrations and those long, elegant fingers curled around his zip.

"'Any minute', you said? You may want to move a little faster. Or does the thought of seeing me nude intimidate you that much?"

He spoke as if bored, though the grin he sported clearly indicated it was a tease.

******

Draco nipped the prat on a well-defined pec for his unrelenting cheek. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity," he asserted, standing upright and pushing Potter's jacket off his shoulders. "I am not about to rush it."

He peeled the garment the rest of the way off and followed it with Potter's shirt. It felt like Christmas with all the excitement of unwrapping a treasured gift. He hadn't been this eager for his first Firebolt...but then, he'd been a spoilt brat. In the intervening years he had learned a thing or two about longing and desires unfulfilled.

******

Harry's jacket fell heavily to the floor. He had to raise his arms above his head for Draco to remove his top, which quickly joined the coat in a growing heap. He placed his hands on his waist, just above the top of his torn trousers. He knew he must smell--his day had been particularly trying (not to mention the loads of paperwork after.)

"Sorry if I smell like a peasant or whatever. I had to apparate five times in pursuit of a suspect and then chase him on foot through a muggle neighborhood. Didn't have time to shower."

He grabbed Draco by his sharp hip bones and jerked him forward, eliciting a gasp from the blonde that had Harry grinning like a maniac. "And this doesn't have to be a one-time-only event. I'm sure I'll screw up again soon. Maybe tomorrow. You can use that as an excuse to get me out of my clothes a second time."

******

"Actually," Draco admitted, voice a husky rasp, "I like for a man to smell like one. But for the sake of Pansy's dress a cleaning charm wouldn't be remiss." He wondered if Potter would trust him with a wand in his hand. "Would you like to do the honours or shall I?"

"As for the rest," he smirked, grabbing a generous handful of Potter's pert arse, "we will just have to see, hm?"

******

Harry arched his back to push into Draco's demanding hands, spreading his legs wider for better access. With their torsos pressed together, his own hands wandered from his partner's hips--one grasping the hairs at the back of Draco's head in order to pull him down close enough for Harry to bite his thin lower lip as the other slithered beneath Draco's thigh and lifted. Their cocks met with the action and Harry didn't hesitate to grind against him.

******

"Merlin, Potter," Draco exclaimed, throwing his arms over the shorter man's shoulders for balance, "if I'd known you were this eager, I would have had you over a desk ages ago."

He tightened his leg and rocked his hips forward into Potter's trusts, taking his lips in a bruising kiss as he did so. He broke away after only a minute, however--Potter was overdressed.

He made quick work of the fastenings of Potter's denims and pushed them roughly down his hips.

******

"Well, I did try to tell you," Harry insisted with a few panted breaths before his lips were reclaimed.

He stepped away from Draco just long enough to kick off his shoes and shove his trousers aside (revealing he did indeed wear nothing underneath). Once that task was accomplished and Harry was totally naked, he moved back to his place against Draco--this time hooking both hands under the tall blonde's lean thighs and hoisting him up until his feet were off the ground. He grinned wide.

"And who exactly is going to have _whom_ over a table?" he smirked as he carried Draco quickly to the sitting room. (They hadn't even left the foyer before Harry was starkers!)

He fell atop Draco as soon as a sofa of some sort was in sight (never mind that it appeared to be a priceless antique). He pushed Draco's long legs wider and immediately began to grind and thrust down, as eager as a wild dog.

******

Draco couldn't contain his yelp of surprise at being lifted suddenly, almost effortlessly, as though he weren't a fully grown man. He did a better job tamping down the fit of giggles that threatened to bubble forth when Potter, in all his naked glory, carried him out of the entryway, like some kind of Neanderthal will his ill-gotten prize. 

The analogy proved especially apt when Potter dropped the both of them onto the closest piece of furniture that would support their combined weight (probably) and began rutting in earnest.

Though Draco was plenty receptive, and Gieves known for his discretion (the tailor would have to be with _Blaise_ as a regular customer), he was not ready to be despoiled in so coarse a manner, and not with an appointment to be kept.

"Off, you great ape," he ordered, shoving Potter sideways. "You'll wrinkle the robes."

******

"I'll do more than just wrinkle them," Harry muttered darkly as Draco rolled him off, practically dumping him to the floor. He had been so mindlessly focused he hadn't thought to prepare himself for a quick rejection. However, he grinned as he lifted himself to sit with his legs wide open and his hands flat on the floor.

"Fine, fine," he stated, rather agreeably (already plotting when to tackle Draco again).

******

Draco wasn't sure he liked the gleam in Potter's eyes--the man was definitely plotting something. He arched a brow and licked kiss-tender lips, eyeing the magnificently hard prick prominently and unabashedly on display.

He licked his lips a second time (unrelated to the first).

"Don't mistake my prudence for lack of interest," he warned, righting both himself and his robes. "Your gown awaits, and that," he gestured at Potter's lap, "is going to disrupt the fall of the skirts."

******

"Well, if you hadn't stopped me that wouldn't have been an issue for much longer," Harry muttered as his grin went crooked. He licked between his teeth as he openly eyed Draco's ruffled looks.

The room suddenly shimmered.

"Luckily for you, I think your guest has arrived. But as soon as we're alone again..."

He let the 'threat' hang in the air as he stood up from the floor and stretched the kinks out of his back--arms and legs tensing and pulling away from each other as each muscle was lengthened and slowly returned.

His prick was still rather stiff.

******

The wards signaled Gieves arrival and Draco noted he'd evicted Potter not a moment too soon.

Feeling vindicated, he shook his wand out of its holster and into his hand, pausing a moment to request permission. When Potter made no protest, he cast a gentle, yet effective scourgify to lift the topmost layer of sweat and grime from the man's body and finished with a useful little spell he'd learned in school for dealing with inopportune erections. Potter gasped and cupped his rapidly deflating member, glaring bloody murder at Draco for the trick (the sensation was akin to dunking one's anatomy in a bucket of ice water; in a word, unpleasant. He made no move to cast the spell on himself--his robes hid the situation in his pants more than adequately. He did, however, point the wand at his head to restyle his hair and calm the flush in his cheeks.

"There," he said with a self-satisfied smirk. "Now we're both presentable."

******

Harry's glare did not relent. For revenge, just as he heard footsteps approaching from the door, he walked close to Draco, leaned in as if he might kiss him… and ruffled his hair.

Once that was done, he kissed the blonde's cheek once and stepped back.

"Now we're both 'presentable'," he parroted with a devilish wink . "By the way, where are the heels I was promised?"

******

Potter could have done worse, to be sure, but targeting Draco's hair two times in a row was ill-advised. His retribution would be meted out with extreme prejudice. First, however, Draco needed to spell his hair again, and he was most displeased by it because doing so was liable to result in split ends.

" _Gieves_ ," he said by way of greeting, standing and turning to shake the man's hand, tucking his wand away when he was finished. "Thank you for being timely as ever."

"But of course," the tailor replied in his subtle accent. Draco had yet to discern if the soft French vowels were genuine or an affectation, but either way, they suited him.

Gieves was a willowy man. Mid-50s. Sandy blond hair styled impeccably, with robes to match. He wore small, square wire-framed spectacles, which he peered over most of the time. He did so then to note the other person in the room, bent over with his naked arse in the air to retrieve the towering stilettos Pansy had paired with the gown. His face didn't so much as flicker, not even when Potter turned around with a cheeky grin, revealing himself to be the Saviour of Wizarding World.

Good man.

"Auror Potter is your client for the evening," Draco announced, motioning casually at the wizard who needed no introduction. "There is the dress. We are under something of a time limit as dinner will be ready soon, but please do ensure that it fits him flatteringly and securely. He will be wearing it for a full day."

Gieves nodded and went to inspect both the garment and his client. Potter stood still for his perusal, surprisingly at ease with the whole affair. Draco re-seated himself on the settee, resting one arm along the back and dropping the other into his lap. He caught Potter's eye and with a wicked smirk, palmed his half-hard prick through the fabric of his robes and started stroking himself lazily. Gieves was too busy to notice.

******

Harry noted the hand in Draco's lap. He shook his head as Draco began to touch himself through his trousers. He mouthed the word 'evil' before returning his attention to the tailor, who had him hold his arms out and spread his legs a few inches. Gieves pulled out a measuring tape that was obviously charmed to work on its own (much like at Madame Malkin's) while the man took notes.

******

Draco chuckled quietly at the moniker. It had been applied to him before, but never with the hint of a smile Potter sported when he'd said it. That small, novel alteration had Draco quickening his motions, almost without noticing.

He raked his eyes over Potter's thick, muscular frame, taking in the nicks and scars that dotted him, the dark, appealing hair that was sprinkled on his chest (and more pronounced the further south it went), the confident way he stood. The man had stared Death in the face and lived to tell of it. He'd saved Draco on more than one occasion and been a thorn in his side more often still. He was brash, powerful, and self-assured, yet somehow still so down-to-earth, as likely to poke fun at himself as he was to do something worthy of mockery. He was Gryffindor to his very core and, Salazar, Draco wanted him.

He widened his knees to wank more effectively and pinched his own nipple through his robes, staring pure, molten sex at Potter as he did so.

******

Harry watched the tailor work, focused on the task at hand. Once the measuring was done, he lowered his arms and turned his gaze back to Draco--just in time to see him deliberately fucking his hand, legs wide open, grey eyes smoldering. He quickly made his way to the couch while Gieves was busy adjusting the dress and pulled Draco's hands from his lap.

"Keep that up and I won't care that we have an audience,” he whispered darkly before slamming their lips together in a fast, hard kiss. “I mean it.”

He let go of Draco and stood back up in time to be pulled away by the insistent tailor once again.

******

The sound Draco made as Potter was dragged off could have been called a snort, but only by someone so uncultured as to fail to recognize the difference between such a boorish noise and an appropriately refined _derisive exhalation_ (which is, in fact, how he responded).

He smirked to himself, intending fully to call Potter's bluff. It was a win-win scenario for him: either he would be treated to more of Potter squirming or he'd have an opportunity to outdo Blaise in the category of shameless sexcapades--a distinct accomplishment, to be sure.

He waited until Potter was reasonably ensnared by the satiny garment before beginning to unbutton his robes, starting at the collar and working his way down slowly.

It would soon become apparent he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

******

The laces at his back were tightened until Harry could barely breathe. He gripped his hips in an effort to keep some form of balance while Gieves abused his ribcage and lungs, but the moment he lifted his head to look at Draco it ceased to matter.

He openly gawked without thought to the dress being wound about his body to the point of crushing as Draco began to casually undress. He chuckled to himself at the thought that the pureblood had wanted to be so presentable for Gieves not ten minutes earlier and now didn't seem care one whit what the tailor saw. 

"It's rather t- _tight_ ," he was forced to complain as breathing became impossible (partly due to the sudden increase in his blood pressure). A telltale jutting became more and more obvious beneath the thin fabric of the skirt with each bit of flesh Draco revealed.

******

"By design," Gieves said blandly, tightening the corset further still. Draco snickered--he'd been on the receiving end of the man's merciless approach before. "It is meant to display your waist and décolletage to best effect," he continued with no hint of irony in his dry tone (though Draco suspected it was there beneath the surface). If the tailor had any opinions about how Draco planned to spend the evening with his unusually costumed houseguest, he didn't show it. Potter frowned, his brow furrowed, breath coming in shallow pants.

Draco undid the final button and allowed the robes to slip off his narrow shoulders. They pooled around his waist, obscuring his arousal. "That will do, Gieves," he announced in a lordly tone. "Please send your bill by post. It will be paid in full, with a handsome bonus for your impeccable professionalism."

Gieves inclined his head in a minuscule bow. "Very well, Master Malfoy," he replied evenly. "I shall locate a house-elf to see me out."

He left without so much as a second glance at either Potter or Draco, thereby earning himself an extra galleon in his tip.

Draco held Potter's electric stare a moment before solicitously inquiring, "Do you require assistance with your shoes?"

******

"I can't feel past my waist," Harry answered in a strangled voice, panting desperately for air. His face was red from exertion. "Aren't these things... For slimming? I don't think a man's ribs are meant to bend... This way... _Haa_..."

He closed his eyes to concentrate on dragging air into his lungs.

"If I die, tell Hermione. She knows where my will is."

******

"For the love," Draco exclaimed, rolling his eyes at Potter's theatrics. He stood from the settee (allowing his robes to fall away completely) and crossed the room to where the Chosen One gasped and wheezed like a landed carp. Turning him round, he deftly untied Gieves' precision bow and loosened the bodice, to Potter's exaggerated relief. He left the lacing tight enough to support the gown without restricting Potter's airway overmuch.

" _Better_?" he asked with a smirk.

Potter nodded, gulping air and rubbing his apparently bruised ribs. Big baby. He suffered worse on the average Tuesday morning on the job.

Draco scoffed.

He bent to retrieve the shoes and kneeled before Potter to assist him in putting them on. Holding out a hand, he enjoyed the image of the accomplished Auror lifting his skirts and daintily resting a foot in his waiting palm. He shod the man with care, gently stroking along his arches, the tops of his feet, his heels, and his toes before slipping the dark green stilettos into place.

He couldn't help but grin at the final outcome, particularly with the unmistakable tenting in Potter's skirts.

******

Harry was surprised by Draco's gentleness with his feet (the affectionate way he held and rubbed each one was, oddly enough, a bit of a turn on).

Once they both stood up, he grinned wickedly down at his partner.

"I finally know what it feels like to be tall," he chuckled, before taking a few (somewhat clumsy) steps back to peer over Draco's nude form. His grin, and his obvious erection, grew with approval.

"Well? How do I look?"

******

Potter held out his arms and attempted a pirouette that very nearly ended with a broken ankle. Fortunately, Draco's reflexes hadn't dulled in his years off the Pitch. "You'll have to work on your balance if you want to leave your desk at any point tomorrow," he critiqued, righting the heavier man and maintaining a grip on his forearm lest he stumble again. "Your steps must be light, your weight forward on the balls of your feet. It's different than stomping around in your boots or trainers.

"As for your appearance--" he took his time appraising Potter from head to toe, even going so far as to remove Potter's spectacles and attempt straightening his unruly hair (a lost cause). "Between your heavy jaw, broad shoulders, and visible chest hair, you make a frightfully ugly woman. But as a man in a dress?" he smiled broadly. "The prettiest I've ever seen, I think. Though it is a bit strange to be looking up at you."

******

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's neck and unceremoniously jerked him forward against the dress. He smirked as he leaned in and nipped Draco's ear, giving the shell a teasing lick.

"So, dress on or off? For our plans for the rest of the evening, I mean," he purred, pressing his torso and hips into Draco's, rubbing their cocks together once more. 

******

Draco hummed contentedly at the feeling of Potter's erection through the wispy fabric of the dress. "On. Definitely," he replied without hesitation. Whether there was to be a repeat performance or not, he was going to make the most of their evening together. It was not every day one had the opportunity to go down on the Saviour of the Wizarding World beneath his skirts...which was exactly what Draco was about to do.

He dropped to the floor, grateful for the plush rug before the hearth providing his knees with a cushion and radiant heat from the fire to keep him warm, and lifted the hem of the dress to reveal Potter's lovely prick once again. It was by no means massive, but it was more than adequate for his purposes, with a pair of close-shaven bollocks to match.

He was going to enjoy this.

******

Harry quirked a surprised brow as Draco fell to his knees and immediately lifted the hem of the dress. It took a second, but when it registered exactly what his partner planned, he grinned and leaned forward to grip the fireplace behind Draco, spreading his legs for better access.

"I better not see any details of this in the papers, mind," he warned, "or there won't be a second time."

******

"You wound me," Draco proclaimed with false hurt in his tone (well, not _entirely_ false). "Have I not proved myself trustworthy after all these years working together?" he asked, pouting up at Potter through his lashes. "If you still have so little faith in my honour, you can at least trust my sense of self-preservation: I would not willingly risk your ire, nor another chance at _this_."

******

Harry licked his lips suggestively as one brow quirked up in interest. He smiled wide at Draco.

"I'll trust you, since you're being so adorable and sexy," he replied easily. "Now, get on with what you had planned, if you please. I'm curious to know if you're a 'god of fellatio' like Carter down in Accounting claims."

******

Draco smirked, vindicated and smug. Carter had been a good one--too boring to maintain his interest for long, but vocally and enthusiastically appreciative of Draco's talents. It was nice to hear that he was still singing their praises (and rightfully so).

"I hope that's not the only reason you requested me as a partner," he said teasingly, getting into position all the same. His mouth watered at the sight of Potter's thick, swollen prick. A pearly drop of precome gathered at the slit and he leaned forward to lap it up.

A bit salty, somewhat alkaline, entirely _Potter_.

"Hold this will you?" he prompted, passing the bunched skirts up so his hands would be free to work. When Potter obliged, he wrapped one hand around his shaft and cupped his balls with the other, appraising their texture and weight. (Excellent on both counts.) Rolling them skillfully between his fingers, he flicked out his tongue to trace a thick vein that ran from base to crown, finishing with a swirling lick around the glans.

******

"I wanted you because I needed someone who would get the job done and not be distracted by my celebrity status. Ever since Ron retired to a desk job all I've had are fanboys who don't know what the hell they're doing," Harry explained quickly through rough pants as he held the skirts and tried his best to maintain logical thought. That effort shriveled up and died as his cock was expertly licked around the sensitive head. He threw the material over Draco's head in order to grab the mantel once again.

"Holy _fuck_..."

******

Draco laughed breathily at Potter's reaction, his view suddenly and significantly dimmed (and tinted green). If their roles were reversed, he'd want to see everything, but perhaps Potter thought the sight would push him over the edge too soon.

Fair enough.

He squeezed the shaft with a gentle pulsing rhythm and took the upper half into his mouth for some light bobbing, getting everything wet with the broad side of his flattened tongue to ease his motions later on.

******

Harry placed a hand where he could tell Draco's head was and suddenly wished he were naked. It would have been nice to run his fingers through the man's soft hair and to tickle his nape, but it wasn't to be. ( _This time_.) Instead he kept one hand light over Draco's crown as the other gripped the mantel for balance.

" _Draco_ ," he moaned softly, " _Nnn_..."

******

Draco tensed a moment when he felt a hand descend on his head--he considered it the height of impropriety when someone tried to direct him with pressure on his skull. But the hand was light and still; Potter simply wanted to touch him more, it seemed, which was agreeable.

He slid the fingers that had been gripping Potter's prick into the neatly manicured patch of curls at the base and eased his mouth down the entirely of Potter's erection until it pressed against the back of his throat, continuing to tug and stroke his bollocks as he went. After a beat, he pulled back with a slow, sucking drag that hollowed his cheeks and made saliva pool where his lips were sealed around the silky skin.

******

At this rate Harry wouldn't last. His legs quivered and his moans grew louder as his bollocks tightened up, but the feel of Malfoy's hot, wet mouth and talented tongue wasn't something he wanted to spoil so soon.

Neither was the experience as a whole.

"Draco," he implored breathlessly, "if you don't stop, I'll come..."

******

 _Already_? Draco thought with a twinge of dismay. He knew he was a master of the art, but he'd expected better from Potter. Pity.

He reluctantly eased off and freed himself from the confines of the skirts, leaving both hands beneath it to knead Potter's muscular thighs. "That was rather the idea," he retorted dryly. "But if you'd rather wait until I'm buried inside you, that can be arranged."

******

Harry waited patiently for Draco to come out from under the dress. He bent down as far as he could comfortably go (nearly toppling over) and grabbed Draco around the waist to lift him up.

"Until what now?" he asked cheekily as he forced Draco to wrap his legs around his waist in order to remain upright, causing Draco's cock to be sandwiched between them.

"I'm going to carry you to the nearest table or desk and fuck you now,” he announced decisively. “Where to?"

******

Draco shuddered, gooseflesh erupting across his skin, his nipples tightening almost painfully. If Potter asked, he'd blame it on the sudden change of temperature--it had been stuffy under the dress--not the very real effect his brash, domineering swagger had on him. (It was impressive how Potter could channel such raw masculinity in that ridiculous getup, but then that had always been his way.)

"The idea certainly has merit," he replied circumspectly, clinging to Potter for balance though he felt secure in his hold, "but I am reluctant to pass up an opportunity to have that sweet arse of yours while you're wearing the gown. Just think of the different angles those heels will make possible for us," he reasoned, tone laden with suggestion.

******

"Exactly," Harry retorted. "And you're apparently very flexible," he added as he openly leered at Draco's cock, relishing in the thrill of holding him captive. "Besides, we have all night. I'll let you bugger me next. Now where can I lay you down? Decide before I choose to throw you on that sofa-thing again--I am not replacing it if it breaks."

******

"You are a brute, Harry James Potter," Draco said scornfully, without actually disputing the man's proposal. (It was rather compelling.)

He looked over his partner's head to scan the room for options. The settee wouldn't do--it was difficult to get semen stains out of antique velvet (he knew from experience). "The writing desk," he decided, motioning towards the heavy oak furniture with his chin, "but I'm walking over there myself. I don't trust you not to stumble in those shoes."

******

"Aw, but I like the feel of you wrapped around me like this," Harry half-whinged, but he agreed it would be difficult to carry Draco around in stilletos. He hesitantly set his partner down, immediately turning him around and pressing him against the cool stones of the hearth. He grabbed Draco's hips and rocked his silk-covered cock in the crevice of Draco's arse.

"On second thought," he began as he reached around Draco and squeezed the base of his prick, "I'm too impatient. I barely lasted through the fitting, let alone that lovely suck... You are far too sexy, you know that?"

******

Draco groaned at the influx of sensation--being trapped between Potter's rough hand and hard prick was quite all right with him. But something the man had said made him fight back, pushing off the mantle and breaking free of the demanding grasp.

"You make an excellent point," he retorted mutinously, turning to face Potter and crossing in his arms over his chest. "You barely lasted two minutes with my mouth. Why should I go through all the trouble of letting you fuck me if you're going to finish long before I'm through?"

******

Harry didn't let up. With Draco now facing him, he placed a hand on each side of the blonde--fingers splayed against the pale skin of Draco's hips. He leaned forward, just barely touching their lips together as he spoke.

"I can last, but I do see your point... I've been waiting for you all day, so I've been walking a knife's edge since before I even arrived. But you don't seem too intent on topping. Me, on the other hand, I would be _trilled_ to sink inside you.  And happily suck you off if I finish before you do. But I really don't care in the end...as long as we get to it sometime _this year._ "

******

Draco chuckled before closing the distance between their mouths to take Potter's lips in a heated kiss. There was something to be said for the man's enthusiasm, at least. 

" _Well_ ," he broke away to reply, "as long as you understand that I will be judging your efforts most critically. A sub-par performance almost guarantees there will not be another."

With that, he sashayed over to the writing desk, swaying his hips exaggeratedly before bending forward to offer his arse up to the man. "Let's see what you've got, Potter," he smirked over his shoulder.

******

Harry grinned as he followed Draco to the desk. Instead of leaning forward and draping himself over his partner like before, he dropped carefully to his knees between Draco's legs and moved to grip and spread his arse cheeks.

"First things first," he purred. "Preparation is key."

He leaned forward and licked along the crack of Draco's arse. His tongue dipped into the skin just above Draco's testicles first, then dragged upward to his ring, where he circled the pink, puckered skin. He lapped at Draco's entrance before pressing his mouth against the hole and sucking gently, pushing the tip of his tongue inside.

******

Draco's estimation of Potter as a lover rose several degrees in response to the man's skillful and unhesitating tongue. He bit his lip against the sounds that wanted to escape; a single needy whimper made it through. Potter had effectively knocked the smirk off Draco's face, which was not easily done.

Gripping the far side of the writing desk for leverage, he arched his back, pressing his chest and forearms into its smooth surface and his arse more firmly against Potter's mouth. His prick hung unattended between his legs and the desk; he wondered how well Potter could multitask and if he would take the initiative on his own.

******

With Draco's cock now easily accessible, Harry circled his tongue around the pucker once more as his hands shifted from Draco's hips--at this angle he didn't mind if the man bucked on him while he played. One hand went to firmly grip Draco's cock and squeeze while the other he used to quickly conjure lube before joining the first. He drove his tongue inside Draco, thrusting it to its limit and wanking firmly as he did. 

******

Biting his lip was insufficient. Draco turned his face to the side and bit his own shoulder in an effort to stifle the stream of gasps and moans ready to spill forth.

 _Let the record show Potter was a_ master _multitasker._

Draco widened his stance and stretched his spine into an even more pronounced arch to spread his arsecheeks since Potter's hands were otherwise occupied. The Gryffindor used that opportunity to increase the tempo and depth of his tongue-fucking and Draco became nearly incoherent with lust.

For all that he had been giving Potter a hard time earlier about his stamina, between the hand on his prick, the one on his bollocks, and the tongue in his arsehole, Draco was rapidly hurtling toward orgasm.

******

Harry was having such a grand time tending to Draco's needs, he would have been fine wanking the bloke to completion and worrying about himself after, but then he might miss out on his only opportunity to shag _Draco Malfoy_.

It took a great deal of effort to pull his mouth away and lift one lubed hand from Draco's cock to his arse. Harry circled the tip of his middle finger around the glistening entrance before slipping the entire digit inside, pumping in time with his other hand as it continued to stroke Draco's length.

"How many fingers do you want?"

******

Draco shuddered bodily when Potter replaced his tongue with a finger, probing more deeply inside and continuing to wank him with quick, tight strokes. 

He was considerate to have started with just one, but it was an unnecessary kindness.

"I'm ready," Draco panted, pressing himself up on his forearms to look back at at his partner. Potter grinned, mouth and chin shiny with saliva he hadn't taken the time to wipe, green eyes heavy-lidded and dark under long, sooty lashes. He'd lost his spectacles at some point, Draco noted belatedly.

He looked good.

"Just make sure I'm plenty wet and get on with it."

******

Harry rose back onto his feet (which was a mite difficult to do in heels) and immediately hiked up his skirts in the front until his cock was out. He cast a few sticking charms to keep the dress in place before slicking his cock thoroughly and moving forward.

"Tell me if it's too much," he said as he pressed the head of his cock against Draco's entrance and watched as the reddened glands popped inside.

******

Draco groaned deeply as Potter entered him, head dropping between his arms and eyes falling shut. Potter went slowly but without pause, which was fine by Draco. He was consumed by the sensation of his body stretching to accommodate Potter's girth. It was a satisfying feeling of fullness and warmth and he reveled in it. (What a sight they must make with Potter in his ball gown and Draco spread wantonly before him; it was fortunate the house-elves didn't trouble themselves with such things.)

When Potter was fully seated, both men released the breaths they'd been holding. Potter grasped Draco's hip with one hand and reached in front of him to palm his prick with the other.

"You're off to a good start," Draco wryly opined.

******

"Glad you approve," Harry replied with a chuckle as he slowly pulled back out (rubbing against his best approximation of Draco's prostate). He wanted to push Draco into begging for more. He continued with the teasingly, torturously slow thrust and drag of his cock, his hands gripping Draco tightly. 

"Tell me what you want, or else I'll do as I please."

******

Draco pushed back hard, impaling himself on Potter's shaft, wrenching a gasp from his lungs. "I want you to fuck me," he growled impatiently. "I thought that much was clear."

******

Harry laughed again, maintaining a leisurely pace despite the demands of his impatient partner.

"I mean do you want it fast and hard or slow and deep?" he asked as he suddenly shoved his entire length back inside with a loud squelch.

******

"Mmm...like _that_ ," Draco panted in reply. "Fuck me like you mean it. Hard and deep. No stopping." He had to pause for breath between each phrase because Potter had complied immediately and it was glorious.

His hair, a tangled mess from his time beneath Potter's skirt, swung loose about his face. The dress swished and rustled with every motion. His breath was hot and humid on his forearms, his arse both burned and sang.

Potter's hand finally got in on the action, squeezing Draco's prick once before it matched the tempo of his thrusts. It was heaven.

******

Harry pounded Draco mercilessly. He was already feeling sweat prickle on his skin and roll down his neck.

One hand squeezed around the crown of the Draco's cock before slamming down toward his hips with a particularly hard thrust. The other stroked the length of Draco's back (delighting in the feel of his soft, smooth skin, which shimmered with perspiration of its own). He clamped onto Draco's shoulder and gripped tight for better leverage.

"Fuck, Draco," he moaned between desperate thrusts. "You're so beautiful, and so tight... _Fuck_!"

******

This. This is what Draco wanted. What he _needed_. Potter in him. On him. Around him. Utterly  consuming him.

If only they could be snogging, as well...

 _Next time_.

They couldn't quite get their tempo together with Draco moving to meet Potter's brutal thrusts, so he stiffened his arms and flexed his core and focused on holding steady under the glorious assault. Each trust forced out a small gasp; he couldn't catch a breath to tell his dress-clad partner it was perfect. Even with the table's edge biting into his naked thighs and his chest rubbing hard against its surface, stinging sweat dripping into his half-closed eyes, and a cramp forming in his right calf, the impossible heat and delicious friction in his arse and on his prick more than made up for it.

" _Potter!_ " he sobbed.

******

"Draco," Harry groaned in reply, hoping that word was enough to convey his own feelings. His whole body burned pleasantly and his cock would most likely suffer the strain tomorrow, but right now it was brilliant. He nudged Draco's legs wider before thrusting again, harder and wilder than before, his bollocks tightening swiftly.

"Come on," he growled as his hand encircled Draco's cock tightly. He wouldn't last much longer, but he needed Draco to come first. "Come on..."

******

Potter sounded desperate. That was one of Draco's favourite things about sex--it made him feel desirable, _powerful_ even when bottoming: Potter was doing most of the work, but _he_ was the one in control.

A part of him wanted to hold back, to break the man completely, but it all felt so bloody good, the psychological factors so unbelievably arousing--Harry Potter was begging him to come while wearing a ball gown at his command!--that his own orgasm was a looming inevitability.

Rather than fighting it, he embraced it, humping into Potter's fist until he was on the very precipice.

******

Harry's face fell into the space between Draco's shoulder blades where he huffed hot breath and took in the scent of Draco's sweat mixed with some sort of (most likely expensive) cologne. He bit into the man's shoulder and closed his eyes tight to hold his orgasm at bay.

******

Draco groaned under Potter's bite--it was sharp enough to sting, but the pain mixed exquisitely with the pleasure roiling in his gut.

The fabric of the bodice scraped against his back and swished around his legs. Potter panted harshly in his ear, his breath hot and humid. Co-mingled perspiration built up between them. Potter's hips stuttered and his hand lost its rhythm, but that was all right--the final thread holding Draco together snapped violently and he shuddered his release, Potter's name of his lips.

******

" _Finally!_ " Harry exhaled on a sigh of relief, just before he came with a deep, appreciative groan. " _Nnn_.... Fuck..."

He didn't bother to pull out as he flopped heavily on Draco's back like a sack of potatoes, breathing against his hair and hugging the blonde's waist as he slowly came down from his incredible high.

"That was brilliant... Merlin."

******

Draco tolerated Potter's oppressive embrace until it was too hot and uncomfortable to bear...which was all of thirty seconds. If the man wanted cuddling, he should have held out for a bed--Merlin knows there were plenty of them in the Manor.

" _Off_ ," he grumbled, elbowing the boneless git in the side. (He was heavier than he looked!) Potter mumbled an unintelligible protest but complied. He rolled off Draco, pulling him along until their positions were reversed, chest-to-chest this time. Draco straddled his legs and deigned to give him a sweet, slow kiss in thanks for a fuck well done.

"Shower, then dinner, then I'm on top," he dictated haughtily after breaking away. He smirked down at his still-dazed partner who smiled up at him with unfocused eyes. "With you in the dress again," he stipulated.

...Salazar, he may have just given himself a new kink.

******

"You really like the dress thing, huh?" Harry said with a chuckle as he affectionately pet his lover's bony hips. He returned the kiss a second later (though his was more a quick peck and nuzzle).

"Are you sure you won't be distracted with me like this at work...?"

******

Draco grinned. "Oh, I will be, undoubtedly," he admitted easily. "But not half as much as you, I think. Especially not after what I plan to do to you later." His silken tone was filled with promise and his heavy-lidded eyes hinted at just what kind.

Harry grinned wide and leaned forward to nip at his lips.

"I believe this is the start to a beautiful partnership," he declared.

Draco was inclined to agree. 


End file.
